


Apple Pie Life

by heyacas (lilypond)



Series: Crossposted Tumblr Fics [6]
Category: Supernatural
Genre: Alternate Universe - High School, Fluff, M/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2015-05-02
Updated: 2015-05-02
Packaged: 2018-03-28 18:00:27
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,465
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/3864391
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/lilypond/pseuds/heyacas
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>“Is this about Dean’s birthday?”</p><p>When Castiel blushes, Mary knows she’s guessed right.</p><p>“I was wondering if you could help me learn to make him a pie,” Castiel says, staring hard at the wall. “I…I tried to do it by myself, but it won’t come out right. A-and it…it has to be <em>perfect.”</em> He turns back to look at her, blue eyes wide and pleading.</p><p>“Of course,” Mary says. As if she would have denied him. “I think I have enough apples on hand, if you want to start now.”</p>
            </blockquote>





	Apple Pie Life

**Author's Note:**

> original post on tumblr [here](http://lilypond.co.vu/post/117697061728/when-the-front-door-opens-and-shuts-quietly-mary)

When the front door opens and shuts quietly, Mary frowns and sets down her book.

“John? You’re home early,” she calls out.

Instead of her husband, though, a teenage boy peeks around the corner into the den where she’s curled up on the couch.

“Castiel,” she says in pleased surprise. “I’m sorry, sweetie, but Dean and Sam are at their grandparents’ for the afternoon.”

“I – I know,” the boy says, looking away bashfully. “I was hoping…I was wondering, if, um…”

Mary smiles and slides her bookmark into her book and sets it aside on the table.

“Is this about Dean’s birthday?”

When Castiel blushes, Mary knows she’s guessed right.

“I was wondering if you could help me learn to make him a pie,” Castiel says, staring hard at the wall. “I…I tried to do it by myself, but it won’t come out right. A-and it…it has to be  _perfect.”_ He turns back to look at her, blue eyes wide and pleading.

“Of course,” Mary says. As if she would have denied him. “I think I have enough apples on hand, if you want to start now.”

His face lights up, and she gets up and leads the way into the kitchen.

She opens the pantry first and pulls out her favorite apron, a sky blue one with a spring green ribbon around the waist, speckled with daisies over the skirt.

“Pick one,” she says, before grabbing the flour and stepping aside.

She’s more curious what he’ll pick than she lets on. She has quite a collection, after all. Sam picks the puppy print one every time. Dean, if they’re baking with John or Sam home, picks the same one his father does – a simple navy blue. If it’s just Dean and Mary, though, he picks the soft pink one, ruffles at the bottom and a satiny white tie around the waist.

Castiel is taking a while. When she peeks in on him, he’s holding two, brow furrowed thoughtfully. In one hand he has the worn, old kitten print one, and in the other…

“You should wear that one,” Mary says. “I’ve never worn it, and I probably never will. It should get some use.”

Castiel looks down at it with a frown, as though he can’t imagine why she wouldn’t have worn it before, but nods and puts the cat apron back on the hook.

The one he puts on was a gift, and she’s never quite been sure if it was a joke or not. The bodice is a frankly horrifying shade of yellow dotted with black spots, the skirt a black and white checkered pattern, with two pockets in the same garish yellow embroidered with – admittedly cute – cartoonish bees.

It’s hideous, and Castiel beams at himself in the mirror when he goes to see how it looks on him.

She decides to give it to him afterwards. It’ll be doing both of them a favor, really.

“Now, first of all, for the crust, the most important thing is to keep everything cold. You want your butter to be as cold as possible until the second it goes in the oven to get a nice flaky crust. There are other tricks you can use, like adding vodka or vinegar, but I don’t think there’s any real substitute.”

Castiel nods seriously, watching carefully as she pulls a pastry cutter out of a drawer and sticks it in the freezer.

“It helps to keep your tools cold as you use them, and if it’s hot weather, you’ll probably end up putting everything in the fridge or freezer a few times as you work the dough to make sure it stays cold.”

She turns on the radio, and they measure out the flour and chop a stick of frozen butter carefully before taking out the pastry cutter again. They take turns cutting the butter into the flour.

“The first time Dean tried pie,” she says as Castiel works the dough and she starts rinsing apples. “He was – oh, two years old? It was the fourth of July, and it was cherry pie. He stained everything he was wearing bright red. It got into his hair and everything. He cried and cried when I told him there was no more.”

Castiel smiles fondly as she talks, a soft look in his eyes.

She wonders if he’s admitted to himself that he’s in love with Dean yet. She’s fairly certain Dean hasn’t, but then, he does surprise her sometimes.

They add the ice water to the flour and butter, working it in until they have a dough, then Mary divides it, wraps it up in Saran wrap and puts it away in the fridge. They peel apples together, then Castiel chops while she pulls out the spices and sugars.

Nutmeg, cinnamon, sugar, brown sugar and vanilla get stirred into the chopped apples, along with a tablespoon of lemon juice. There’s flour smeared on Castiel’s cheek as he mixes, humming along with the radio.

Mary smiles as she watches him, daydreaming about all the Thanksgivings and Christmases in the future that she may find herself like this, Castiel or Dean or both in the kitchen helping her cook, Sam sneaking in to steal bits of food – for all her efforts, Sam has always been hopeless at cooking.

And maybe one Christmas in a few years, Castiel and Dean will come home and have an announcement, a ring on Castiel’s finger – because she’s sure, somehow, that Dean will be the one to propose, secret romantic that he is. And maybe –

“Mary?” Castiel says. “The oven’s finished heating up.”

She smiles and scolds herself internally for getting carried away. She digs in the cupboard for a pie pan, and they take the dough out of the fridge and roll it out carefully, then lay it out in the pan and pour the apple filling into it, dotting it with butter.

Castiel watches in awe as she weaves a careful lattice crust over the top, then they paint an egg wash over all of it and trim and crimp the edges before putting it in the oven.

“So, not too hard, right?” Mary says as they begin to wash up.

Castiel frowns thoughtfully. “Not as hard as I was making it, but I’m not sure…”

“We can always practice again,” she says with a smile. “Next time we can try cherry. Pecan is Dean’s favorite, but that’s a little more complicated. Really, as long as it’s pie, he’ll be ecstatic.”

Castiel smiles softly down at the bowl he’s drying, a faraway look in his eyes.

The door opens and shuts again, louder than before, but still not quite loud enough to be John.

Sure enough, it’s Sam’s face that peers around the corner of the kitchen doorway.

“Hey, Cas!” he shouts.

Dean is close behind, beaming when he catches sight of his best friend.

“You’re home early,” Mary says with a frown. “I wasn’t expecting you until dinnertime. Is everything all right?”

Sam shrugs. “Yeah, we just decided to walk home a little early. Grandma was getting tired and wanted a nap.”

Dean’s looking around the kitchen with narrowed eyes, lingering on the bag of flour and spices sitting out on the counter, the rolling pin, and then the oven.

“Did you…are you guys making pie?”

Castiel blushes and looks up at Mary, who smiles and nods at him, turning back to the sink. She pretends to busy herself washing dishes while she listens and watches out of the corner of her eye.

“I wanted to make you pie for your birthday,” Castiel mumbles as Dean walks closer. “I asked your mother if she would teach me, so…”

Dean stares at him, a slow smile spreading across his face.

“It was going to be a surprise,” Castiel continues, sounding a little sad, and then Dean has his hands on Castiel’s shoulders and is pulling him in and they’re  _finally_  kissing, and Mary has to press her lips together hard to keep from cheering out loud.

When Dean pulls back, smiling, there’s flour on his nose and shirt and his cheeks are pink. The only time Mary thinks she’s ever seen him look this happy is when Sam’s first word was Dean’s name. It’s only a second before Castiel pulls him back in to kiss him again, and then Sam’s giggling in the doorway and they break apart.

“You look really cute in that, by the way,” Dean murmurs, and Mary reaffirms her decision to give the apron to Castiel.

“I’ll finish up here and call you boys down when the pie’s ready,” she says, and she gets a brief glimpse of Castiel’s smile as he turns to thank her before Dean is dragging him away and up the stairs.

**Author's Note:**

> come let me love you on [tumblr](http://lilypond.co.vu)


End file.
